"Burn the witch," shouted a reveller, as a skeletal effigy of Margaret Thatcher, complete with handbag, entered Trafalgar Square.

Good luck, in this weather.

Cold London drizzle dampened some spirits at the so-called 'Thatcher Death Party', loosely organised by activists and anarchists. But it failed to drown others, who danced and sang into the night.

Guest of honour: An effigy of Margaret Thatcher at the Trafalgar Square gathering. Photo: AFP

Predictions of a riot failed to materialise, despite the efforts of some agitators to make the most of a brief move by police to seize a sound system.

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Instead, a couple of thousand (at most) revellers braved the rain to don party hats, light sparklers and pop champagne to cheer the death of their political foe.

Two decades ago, the now-defunct anarchist collective Class War proclaimed that there would be a gathering at Trafalgar Square at 6pm on the first Saturday after Lady Thatcher's death.

Elated: A reveller who had climbed onto a ledge outside the National Gallery leaps into the crowd during the outdoor party. Photo: Reuters

In the newspapers, some predicted a historical re-enactment of the poll tax riots.

But at 6pm, as a cheer went up and the soggy crowd mustered for a round of "Maggie Maggie Maggie, dead dead dead", only one scuffle on the fringes spoke of a faction itching for a fight.

Mostly the mood was of determined celebration. One protester offered his neighbours a sip from his champagne bottle. "Sorry, I haven't got any glasses," he murmured.

Children, students, old class warriors and grinning middle-aged punks joined conga lines, fired party poppers and joined in the occasional round of "Ding Dong the witch is dead", but mostly drank smuggled beers and chatted about old battles.

"It's burying the ghost, isn't it," said ex-miner George Brown. He said Lady Thatcher had "killed" his town of Easington (where Billy Elliott was filmed).

"She killed everyone's hope. She flattened the colliery and that was it. It killed my father. He died of a broken heart."

So he was proud to hold the banner of the National Union of Mineworkers at the gathering.

He had no time for those who said it was disrespectful to Lady Thatcher, or her family.

"What about respect for the workers?" he said. "What about respect for the lives she destroyed?"

There were a handful of arrests, of "drunk and disorderly" protesters.

At one point things threatened to get ugly. Someone set up a sound system to play music. Police, predicting it would become a "flashpoint", pushed in to confiscate it. The crowd surged and there were ugly anti-police chants, but ten minutes later it was all over bar the shouting.

One police officer said that the plan was to keep an eye on the crowd but avoid confrontation. Bylaws prohibited alcohol consumption, but senior officers decided that to move through the crowd confiscating bottles would just incite trouble.

Instead, the people were left to party in peace. As the evening wore on the crowd thinned a little, and many made for the dry refuge of nearby pubs.

But a core clung on outside the National Gallery, determined to mark the end of an era.

Drummers drummed, dancers danced, and under the umbrellas most faces wore a smile.